


Some Nights, I Wish That This All Would End (I’m Scared You’ll Forget Me Again)

by orphan_account



Series: Drabbles [16]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, mentions of abuse and minor character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-14
Updated: 2012-10-14
Packaged: 2017-11-16 06:54:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/536705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>
    <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qQkBeOisNM0">Some nights I stay up, cashing in my bad luck. Some nights, I call it a draw.</a>
  </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Nights, I Wish That This All Would End (I’m Scared You’ll Forget Me Again)

**Author's Note:**

> This got really, like. Uhm.
> 
> Yep. Mhmm.
> 
> Anyways, requested by quiltedhearts.

Some nights, Stiles will hear her voice in his head. Those nights are both the best and worst. He'll hear the way she says his name and the way she laughs, the way she spoke to his dad and the way she would sing; he feels, some nights, the way her brittle fingertips would brush over his hair and face, the way she would hold him and the way she would laugh or cry with him. Some nights, his mother is still there, a haunt at the edges of his mind and sight.

And, some nights, Isaac remembers the crash of thrown lamps and fallen plates, the clatter of kicked over chairs and overturned tables. He clutches at foggy, dim memories of a sweeter father and a faceless but caring mother. Some nights, he remembers the way they would hold each other and the way they would hold him. He considers how his life might've been different, some nights, and others he tells himself he wouldn't change a thing.

Some nights, their ghosts are just a little too close to them, touching and running chills across their spines and hearts; some nights, there is nothing but all consuming loneliness, and other nights there's far too much. Some nights, memories and feelings and things gone but not forgotten pinch and tease them, harden their hearts and toss stones and butterflies in their stomachs.

On these nights, these some nights that are both few and far between yet all too frequent, they hold each other. They curl together, clothed or not, sated or not, crying or not—sometimes, even, breathing or not. And they hold each other tenderly, firmly though still loose, lax, and vulnerable in each other's grip.

But they know, as they breath each other in like air and hold each other as though it's impossible to let go—they know that some day, these nights will fade. These nights will cease and they'll mourn them as much as they celebrate. And, still, they will find solace in each other.


End file.
